Page 34 of Tiger's Tale
“Where are we going?” he asked, shouldering his bag.
It didn’t take him long to figure out. The tigers led him to a small pool, where he filled up his now empty flagon along with the other skeins he’d brought with him. He also took the time to wash his face in the ice-cold water and wished he could wash his hair, but he knew it was much too cold for that. He’d have to wait until they were back in civilization. Apparently, such concerns didn’t bother Stacia and Veru; the golden tiger hopped into the pool, shook herself, then darted under and grabbed a fish for breakfast.
After they ate and drank, he donned his boots, put one hand on each tiger, and they began their journey again. They started off with a walk, then when he asked if they were ready, he increased the pace and found they could keep up, even when the speed was so fast the world around them grew hazy and distorted.
Nik was so excited by the weeks they were shaving off their journey and the new magic he’d discovered that he didn’t notice immediately when his love, the tsarevna Verusha, disappeared. He’d gotten so used to the feeling of fur beneath his fingers and the play of muscles as they moved together, the three of them as one, that they’d marched in a sort of musical rhythm.
When one player left the song, the music continued, and the march kept going, so he didn’t realize the fur and the tiger were missing. When he did, he grabbed hold of the ruff at Stacia’s neck and cried out, “Stacia! Veru’s gone!”
11
DIG A HOLE FOR SOMEONE ELSE AND YOU MAY FALL IN
Veru didn’t quite understand what had happened. One moment she was moving alongside her sister and the invisible being her friend had become, thanks to his mysterious power, her mind transfixed as the world shifted around her, and the next moment the ground fell out from beneath her. The hum of magic and the bubble of warmth that had encapsulated her burst, and she was plummeted into a dark, fetid den where the musky earth surrounded her on all four sides.
Panic set in as she bumped her nose against one wall and another. The thought came that she had been buried alive. She roared grievously for her sister again and again, but she couldn't hear or smell evidence of her. A rotten kill assailed her nostrils, though, setting off pangs of hunger like she’d never felt before in her life. Weak starlight shone down from above, and she realized she must have fallen into some sort of pit.
Gingerly, she stood on her hind legs, trying to reach the surface, but it was far too high for her to jump.Think, think, Veru, she lectured herself as she paced from one wall to another, unwilling to explore the dark depths at the back. The fragrant odor drifted down again when the wind rustled the long tree branches above, and peering into the darkness, she could just make out an object hanging over the center of the pit, far above her head.
It’s an animal trap!she thought.Now, how do I get out of it?Baring her teeth and wrinkling her nose so her whiskers stood on end, she sneezed, thinking she’d been lucky there hadn’t been another large predator caught in the pit with her. She could still smell the lingering stench of fear and the stink of old urine and droppings, but she couldn’t catch more than a haunting trace of blood, and there wasn’t the telltale scent of death she expected.
After their first kill, it was a shock to Veru that the animal transition from life to death was now a tangible thing. She could not only smell it but sense and taste it. It left a bitter tang on the back of her tongue. Never again would she take the life of an animal for granted. Though she knew it was necessary, that didn’t mean she couldn’t be more aware. More grateful. Even if her time as a tiger was transitory, the uniqueness of natural life was something she’d remember forever.
Carefully, she began exploring the dirt walls, looking for any place in which to dig her claws or something to grab on to and hoist her body up and over the side. For the first time, she cursed the fact that her body was so large and powerful. If she’d been smaller, say a normal-sized cat or even a mouse, climbing up a wall would have been simple. Since she’d been changed into a tiger, she enjoyed the fact that her body was finally a match for her mind.
Veru had always been envious of her sister. Stacia was tall and strong and able, and the men under her command never looked at her with lovesick cow eyes or forced her to stand back in battle, thinking her too soft or small or in need of protection. Her sister and most of the people in the empire believed that beauty was something laudable, but Veru disagreed. Beauty wasn’t earned. It just was or wasn’t. Their mother understood. She had suffered with the same impediment. But it was her mother who taught her to use it for her own purposes.
She did, and Veru could see how it benefited her family and aided her in spy work and diplomacy on occasion, but secretly, she despised herself for doing so. When she did agree to do such a thing, she felt shameful. Yes, there were times when it was necessary to play at being unscrupulous, or deceptive, or to mislead an opponent and win through subterfuge, but Veru wanted to beat her enemies with wit and intelligence, not by having them swoon at her feet or simply by having turned them into babbling idiots. Playing a vixen was not noble or proper to her way of thinking. As a soldier, she could at least hide behind her armor and be appreciated for her knife skills instead of her figure. Men feared her rather than fawned over her then.
It was one reason she had no interest in men. Not that she didn’t like men. She did. But when a man looked at her with interest, it was never for her mind. If at any time she thought a man could actually see her and not just her body or her face or her hair, and like the woman beneath, then she might, just might, be interested. It was one reason she liked Nik. He never treated her like a fragile creature.
Oh, Veru knew he had feelings for her, but he’d never pressed her about it, at least not until the recent unpleasantness. It didn’t make sense. Nik had always been observant. Too observant sometimes. He knew her weaknesses as well as her strengths. He’d always been possessive, but it never bothered her before. Now, if she wasn’t in tiger form, she wouldn’t know what to say to him, how to act. She didn’t for a second believe he was the son of the monk or magician or whatever that man pretended to be. But she knew Nik would never hurt her either.
Like her, Nik said he’d always dreamed of the two of them heading off into the world together, leading the Guard. Stacia wanted to command the military, too, but the two sisters wanted the job for very different reasons. Veru feared being consigned to the palace, ending up the prized pet plaything for some boorish foreign prince. Her only job that of producing the next heir to inherit the throne.
As the years passed and her looks declined, so would her influence and power, until one day she’d find herself locked away somewhere, unable to help anyone, not even herself. She’d end up a prisoner, used only for her name, her womb, and the inheritance she brought to another who kept her securely beneath his thumb until she passed from this life unloved, old, an impostor who’d once had a dream.
While it was true that their parents had shared responsibility equally and, thanks to their mother’s influence and their father’s open-mindedness, had advanced women’s rights as well as the rights of the indigenous peoples in the empire further than in any of the neighboring kingdoms or principalities, that did not mean it had been easy or that there weren’t still many fixated on the “old ways” who wished to keep women consigned to the home. Never mind that over hundreds of years the majority of peaceful negotiations had women involved.
It wasn’t that Veru didn’t respect the work her mother and father had done or that she didn’t want to continue it. The truth was, Veru was afraid. She didn’t feel as confident with the counselors staring at her bosom or even her face as her mother had been. Even if she had something important to say, would they even listen? Whereas, on the battlefield, she could cover her body with armor, hide her face with a helmet, and let her knives do her speaking.
If she was lucky enough, all it would take would be one or two good blows to mar her pretty face, and then it would no longer matter. She could picture it now, a wicked scar across her eye and down her cheek to her lip, puckering her face enough so all could still recognize her but no longer desire her. Instead of lust-filled expressions, she’d see awestruck loyalty and dedicated patriotism. For who wouldn’t follow the once lovely tsarevna into battle, whether that be in war or in negotiations?
She’d command their full attention then. No one would stare at her body anymore. They’d be too busy looking at her scar. In it, they’d see her perseverance, her unwavering strength, and her commitment to her people and the empire. At that point she could marry and know the man who sought her hand saw her and desired her for who she really was, not for the package.
Dirt rained down on Veru’s head. She sneezed again and shook it off, roaring loudly in protest. What did it matter? There was probably not even a palace left to run. Perhaps not even an empire. She’d thought that by them leaving they might have drawn away the attention of the monk and his minions, but maybe not. They’d seen no sign of him. Maybe he’d stayed to ravage the Guard and the servants. At least it was nearing winter, and most of the villagers had returned to their countryside homes for the season. It might even take months for any of them to notice anything was amiss if the snow cut off the roads. They never held any major gatherings in the winter months.
Veru huffed softly.Why is it taking so long for Stacia and Nik to notice I’m missing?Her tiger stomach rolled and grumbled. Never in her life had she felt so hungry. Even the rancid meat overhead was starting to smell appealing.
Giving up on wall number two, she felt with her paw along the dark edge until she came upon wall number three. Aligning her body with the wall, she looked above, searching for a good place to try to jump. Backing up, her back paw felt a heavy piece of metal buried in the soft earth.What’s that?she wondered, excited that she might have discovered something she might be able to use, and was about to turn around to investigate when her paw brushed across something rough—a rope.
There was a twang, and a net collapsed over her head, frightening her, and she backed away quickly, stepping over the metal ring. Hearing a click and a snap, Veru realized too late what she’d done. The trap closed around her back leg with a clang, and she screamed a roar and collapsed when she heard the sound of her hind leg crack as the bone shattered. The sharp metal teeth bit into her ankle, and the pain almost caused her to black out. Veru could smell her own blood weeping and heard it plop to the earth in steady droplets.
Suddenly, she was very sympathetic to the deer she and Stacia had killed. Her leg throbbed in waves of agony, and the net prevented her from seeing or accessing the wound. Now she understood the tendency for trapped wolves to chew off their own legs. All she could think about was freeing herself, of ending the pain.
Any minor movement proved to her that the steel trap was embedded deep into the ground. There would be no pulling it free. If there had been any hope for her to escape the pit before, there was certainly no chance now, not with the heavy trap attached to her back leg. Veru would have needed her powerful back legs to propel herself up and out of the pit. An injured back leg would make that impossible. She’d have to wait for rescue.
She laid there, whimpering quietly, and tried to quell the strong urge to contort her body so as to lick and chew on the wound or bite and work on the trap itself. Then, as the moments passed, she felt her limb healing itself. The pain lessened. The bone knit itself back together as best as it could with the trap still embedded in the leg. At least it was more bearable than it had been before.
